Which hand to break

On the wall hung a mural depicting a monstrous flood, beneath which a single figure stood in the center, hands pressed together in prayer, blocking the surging waters.

Behind the deluge stood a city.

Fang Mu frowned and said, "A flood?"

Grey Seventy held the book in his hand and muttered to himself, "Legend has it that this eminent monk was severely injured in this flood and passed away afterwards. It seems this place truly is where he perished. You, lead the way ahead."

Yellow Ninety looked stunned and said, "Me again?"

"Stop talking nonsense," Grey Seventy said viciously. "Go when you're told to go, don't dawdle, or I'll turn you into ashes right now!"

The Buddhist prayer beads emitted a golden glow, and a dangerous aura began to spread.

Yellow Ninety gritted his teeth, a flicker of cold malice flashing in his eyes.

Under the threat of the prayer beads, he did not argue and continued to lead the way ahead.

The group proceeded along the passage. After walking for a while, an opening appeared ahead.

The entrance was dark and gloomy, obscuring what lay beyond.

Yellow Ninety, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped. Without saying a word, he just stood there.

"What are you playing at?" Grey Seventy shouted loudly.

Yellow Ninety did not speak; instead, he stiffly turned his head around.

In the gloomy environment, Yellow Ninety's movements appeared extremely bizarre.

*Crack, crack—*

The sound of grinding bones echoed. While Yellow Ninety's body remained entirely still, his head rotated a full hundred and eighty degrees.

"He's dead!" Grey Seventy felt a chill run through his entire body.

*Thud!*

Yellow Ninety's head detached, tumbling and rolling along the ground until it stopped right in front of the two men.

The facial features on the head were twisted into a chaotic knot, and judging by the expression, he must have suffered immense agony before dying.

Fang Mu frowned slightly. Just moments ago, he had detected no anomalies whatsoever. How had Yellow Ninety died?

Bereft of its head, Yellow Ninety's corpse remained standing upright.

The sounds of gnawing echoed from all around, and strange mutations began to manifest across Yellow Ninety's body.

Beneath Yellow Ninety's clothing, fist-sized swellings began to emerge, writhing and twisting continuously.

From the headless shoulders all the way down to the feet, countless dense, fist-sized lumps covered his frame.

*Rip—*

The sound of tearing fabric rang out, and the headless corpse melted away like water, vanishing completely in the blink of an eye.

Fist-sized human figures appeared in the original spot. Clad in grey monastic robes and sporting bald heads, there were around a dozen of them in total.

These miniature monks had crooked eyes and distorted noses, and they suddenly began to move.

The miniature figures embraced one another, starting to fuse together continuously.

In the blink of an eye, through the continuous merging of the miniature monks, a normal-sized monk was formed.

While the rest of this monk appeared entirely normal, his face still retained the same crooked eyes and distorted nose.

The monk rushed toward Fang Mu and his companion, but halfway through, he suddenly stopped and let out an angry roar at the two men.

It was as if an invisible line separated them, barring the monk from crossing, and he dared not initiate an attack.

"An anomaly!" Grey Seventy said excitedly. "And an anomaly in the shape of a monk at that! In all likelihood, this is a monk from the Vajra Temple, probably perished because of that flood!"

Fang Mu frowned and asked, "What should we do next?"

If it were merely a single monk like this, it wouldn't be too troubling. However, Yellow Ninety's death had been utterly bizarre—were those miniature monks from earlier still lurking unseen in the shadows?

"It's completely normal for a place like this to have guardians!" Grey Seventy said. "Go on, it's your turn, hurry up and go!"

The golden prayer beads swayed back and forth, and Grey Seventy exuded utter confidence.

Fang Mu did not move.

Grey Seventy sneered, "If you refuse to go in, I'll hack off your hands and feet before throwing you inside."

"You say... you're going to hack off my hands and feet?" A smile appeared on Fang Mu's face. "I am so, so scared..."

Grey Seventy raised the prayer beads. "It seems you won't shed a tear until you see your own coffin. I'll teach you a lesson then—I'll start by severing one of your hands. Pick one."

"Pick one? Very well." Fang Mu pointed at the prayer beads in Grey Seventy's hand and said calmly, "How about this one?"

Grey Seventy was taken aback, failing to comprehend the situation.

At that exact moment, a searing pain coursed through Grey Seventy as the hand holding the prayer beads snapped cleanly down the middle.

Footsteps sounded from behind. Grey Seventy struggled to turn his head, his pupils contracting sharply.

A young scholar had appeared alongside a white cat, the scholar still holding a blood-stained brush in his hand.

Ghost One picked up the prayer beads and respectfully handed them to Fang Mu, asking, "Master, should I slaughter this person directly?"

Fang Mu took the prayer beads, his body beginning to shift and warp until, in the blink of an eye, he reverted to his original appearance.

"You're not White Ninety-Seven!" Grey Seventy's face twisted in sheer terror.

Fang Mu sighed. "Your scheming runs deep, but unfortunately, you were wrong from the very beginning. In the face of absolute strength, everything else is empty."

"Ten Realms! Rise!" Grey Seventy screamed at the top of his lungs.

Ten shadowy figures materialized behind Grey Seventy. The Ten Realms were formed, and an illusion abruptly manifested.

"You actually gave me time to unleash the Ten Realms!" Grey Seventy said with a venomous grin. "You're courting death! You'll regret this—regret not slaying me the very second you had the chance. Remember, next time you must sever my head straight away!"

Before he could even finish speaking, Grey Seventy suddenly felt a sharp pain erupt from within his body, forcing him to vomit a mouthful of fresh blood.

"This is—!"

Grey Seventy jerked his head up, staring in utter disbelief at Fang Mu.

Fang Mu's eyes gleamed with a faint green light as he reached out toward the figures behind Grey Seventy...

【You have touched the Illusory Anomaly, gaining a wisp of True Qi.】

【You have touched the Illusory Anomaly, gaining a wisp of Anomaly Qi.】

……

Ten wisps of True Qi! Ten wisps of Anomaly Qi!

The ten wisps of True Qi integrated into Fang Mu's body, causing a patch of scales to materialize upon the ethereal serpent of True Qi within him.

The ten wisps of Anomaly Qi likewise merged into his dantian, bringing Fang Mu's total to a full thirty wisps of Anomaly Qi.

Satisfied—extremely satisfied!

Beside them, Ah Bai exhaled a plume of black mist, sucking the anomaly dry of all essence.

Grey Seventy suffered a devastating backlash, his face turning ashen.

Broken. His illusion had been shattered—and obliterated in a single instant, no less.

In his eyes, the man standing before him was terrifying beyond measure. After he had unleashed his ultimate illusion technique, this man had shattered it amidst casual laughter and conversation.

From start to finish, Grey Seventy hadn't even caught a glimpse of how the attack had been executed.

"I've lost. Grant me a swift death," Grey Seventy muttered, his expression completely lifeless.

Before Fang Mu could speak, a sharp *slap* echoed from nearby.

Fang Mu turned his head and saw Ghost One looking at him with eyes brimming with fanatical excitement.

Fang Mu immediately understood the scene; Ghost One must have conjured up some elaborate imaginary backstory in his own head once again.

"Master is truly brilliant!" Ghost One declared with fanatical reverence. "Leaving a live captive behind—he can be used precisely to test the dangers ahead!"

Fang Mu twitched the corner of his mouth. "Splendid, exactly so. You guessed right on the mark."

Guessed right my foot. Fang Mu had simply wanted to loot a corpse and hadn't actually thought that far ahead.

However, Ghost One's words provided Fang Mu with a timely hint: using this method to scout ahead for danger actually seemed entirely viable.

Fang Mu retrieved the aged book from Grey Seventy's grasp, grabbed Grey Seventy by the neck, and strode forward into the passage ahead.